


Potions and Presents and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

by b0yfriendsinl0ve



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Christmas, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hufflepuff Harry, Hufflepuff Niall, In case you were wondering, Kinda, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining, Secret Santa, Slytherin Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0yfriendsinl0ve/pseuds/b0yfriendsinl0ve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a bit of a crush, it's Christmas and there's chocolate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potions and Presents and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucida/gifts).



> So here you go, lucida, I hope you like it. I kinda merged two of your prompts together, which I hope is alright. I mean I'm quite pleased with how this turned out, so.
> 
> I want to thank my mother for her extensive knowledge on the Harry Potter universe.
> 
> I also want to thank [Alexis](http://skyebyrd.tumblr.com/) for everything she's done to help me. I wouldn't have be able to even start writing this is it weren't for her. I wouldn't have been able to finish it either. So. Yeah. Alexis. You rock.
> 
> Spoiler Alert: There is no Partridge in a Pear Tree...

Harry’s life just isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair that his mum didn’t sign his Hogsmead permission slip until fifth year.

It isn’t fair that Gemma’s horrible owl, Celestina, refuses to give him his letters.

And it isn’t fair that he’s got Louis, of all people, for Winter Warlock.

“Niall, please let me swap him for someone else.”

“I don’t think you’re quite understanding the point of the game, Harry.”

They're sat in the library in their yellow-trimmed uniforms, Niall doing a good job of ignoring Harry despite how much he’s nagging. He will not be deterred, though. It’s for a good cause, after all.

“But I don’t know what to get him, Ni,” Harry whines, “I’m a shit gift-giver anyway and Louis deserves the world and _please_ let me swap with you.”

Niall looks at him sceptically. Well. At least as sceptically as a hungover Irishman can. “You do realise everyone will just be getting everyone else sweets and jokes and stuff, right?”

Harry sighs, playing with the feather of his quill. It’s really quite nice. Louis got it for him for his last birthday. “I know, but. I just want it to be special.”

“Is this part of you guys’ weird mating ritual?” Niall asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry turns bright red. “We don’t have a mating ritual.”

Niall cackles. “You wish you had a mating ritual.”

Harry glares. It’s not true, obviously. And he goes to inform Niall that when Madame Pince’s shrill voice interrupts him.

“Styles. Horan,” she whisper-yells as she appears menacingly from behind the nearest bookcase, “I suggest you either stop talking or go somewhere else, otherwise I may have to deduct points from Hufflepuff.”

“Sorry, Madame Pince,” Niall calls, no quieter than before. She glares at them before sweeping away. “It’ll be fine, Haz,” Niall continues, “just get him a couple of Chocolate Frogs and a Skiving Snack Box and you’re sorted.”

Harry huffs indignantly. “But what if he has me too, Niall? What if Louis gets me this extremely beautiful and personal gift and all I get him is a bloody Cauldron Cake and some Extendable Ears?” It’s an absolutely preposterous idea, the whole concept of Winter Warlock is ridiculous. Wasting time and effort to give meaningless gifts to random people. Not to mention the added stress when that person isn’t in fact random and may be your best friend that you’re more than a little bit in love with. That can be extra stressful. At least it is from Harry’s experience.

He may be having a panic attack.

“Hey, would you calm down?” Niall’s less-than-soothing-but-at-least-a-little-bit-reassuring voice breaks through the pounding in Harry’s head. “First of all, when does Louis ever put more than minimum effort into anything?” Niall’s harshly rubbing a palm up and down Harry’s back. It’s a little more painful than calming but it seems to be doing the job. “And secondly, if you have him then he won’t have you, Liam’s been very organised with all this.”

Harry whines dejectedly as he drops his head onto the desk in front of him with a loud and painful _thunk_. Madame Pince shushes them again.

“I just don’t want to let him down,” Harry admits quietly into the wooden table top. Niall squeezes his shoulder briefly before moving his hand away.

“Haz, he won’t care.”

He knows it’s supposed to be reassuring, but it has the opposite effect. “But I want him to!”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Ok, let me rephrase that. He won’t care if the gift is shit because you gave it to him and he cares about you. Happy now?”

Harry shrugs. “S’pose.”

Niall nods as if satisfied, at turns back to his work. Not that he actually attempts to do any of it. But he does look at it. Harry does the same. He’s a little preoccupied with his jumble of thoughts to do any proper work now. N.E.W.T.s suck anyway.

It’s a week ‘til Christmas and the last day of lessons before nearly everyone goes home for the holidays. Normally Harry would too, except Louis asked him if he’d stay at Hogwarts with him this year. And who was he to say no to Louis? So, despite his mum’s protests, here he stays. Which he’s totally fine with – except for the stupid Winter Warlock thing they’re doing.

Liam thought it be a good idea for all of their friends who were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. And while Harry understands the appeal, he also more than understands the stress and confusion. The thing is, even if he didn’t have Louis – wonderful Louis – he wouldn’t know what to get. And if Niall’s right and everyone just gets each other little knick-knacks then he doesn’t really see the point. But at least it makes the gift finding easier.

Louis still deserves a whole lot better, though.

As if hearing Harry’s inner monologue, Niall says, far too loudly for a library, “You should send him a howler that professes your love for him.”

Harry gasps, looking around frantically to see if anyone they know could have overheard. “ _Niall_ ,” he hisses.

The twat shrugs. “It was just a suggestion.”

Harry would glare at him if it weren’t for the hot red flush that seems to have engulfed him.

Before he can pull together a good comeback, Niall continues. “So are you just gonna pick up some shit from Honeydukes this weekend, then?”

And oh. _Oh shit_.

“Oh shit,” he says. He really didn’t think this through properly. “I didn’t even think about that. I can’t. I’ve kind of got detention.” He grimaces. Yeah he’s not very proud of that. Detention right before the holidays. Life was easier before he met Louis. Life also sucked a hell of a lot before he met Louis, so he’ll take a couple more detentions.

“What’ve you done now?” Niall scolds, as if he hasn’t had a million more detentions than Harry has.

“No it’s just. A prank with Louis, it’s a long story. Pick something up for me?” he asks hopefully, maybe using the shining puppy eyes trick that Louis taught him. Though no one does it as good a Louis can.

Niall smiles and pats Harry on the back. “Of course, mate. Chocolate?”

 

☾

 

Louis’ lovely all the time but he shines twice as bright at Christmas. It’s like the cold weather has this magical effect on him that stops him from being anything other than happy all the time. And it’s infectious. Harry had always liked Christmas before but he finds himself counting down the days waiting for Louis to light up like- well. Light up like a Christmas tree.

They’d all agreed to stay at Hogwarts this year. Harry, Louis and the rest of their little group of friends. And Harry finds it so exciting, he barely has time to feel sad about not going home. Exciting fun and presents. It’s exciting to just hang out with his friends without worrying about lessons. Exciting to see the castle when it’s nearly empty and more festive than a Christmas card. And it’s exciting because of Louis. Wonderful Louis. Because they rarely see each other during term time, something Harry is very much not happy about, but now. Now, they have all this free time to spend with just each other. If they want to. And Harry definitely wants to, has wanted to spend every second with Louis ever since they were partnered up for duelling in second year and Harry found out that not all Slytherin’s are evil.

Some of them are so lovely.

It’s just that Louis is so magical, in more than just the literal sense. He’s so beautiful and full of life and Harry sometimes wonders how he can be real. Wonders how he got so lucky as to call Louis his friend. With Louis every moment feels like you’ve taken Felix Felicis. Light and wonderful and exactly as it should be. Like you couldn’t go wrong if you tried. Not as long as you’ve got Louis. Harry may be a little bit in love. But then again, everyone loves Louis. It’s hard _not_ to fall for him. Louis deserves the world.

Which is why Harry is so stressed about Winter Warlock.

Niall brought back several things from Hogsmead, sweets and practical jokes, and he continues to assure Harry that that is exactly what is expected of him. Simple gifts and knick-knacks instead of the one-of-a-kind perfect gift Harry wished he could give Louis. If he could even think of what one-of-a-kind perfect gift, he should get. So he settles for the knick-knacks, and spends the whole of Christmas Eve thinking of possible scenarios for how this could go, ranging from Louis declaring his eternal love to him to him throwing the gifts back in his face and storming off in tears.

He hopes it’s the former.

“Why d’you look so sad, curly? ‘Tis the season to be jolly, and whatnot.” Louis’ voice brings him out of his panicked state. His beautiful, beautiful voice, and calming words. Maybe Harry’s had too much Firewhisky.

Harry smiles at him, hoping it doesn’t look to much like a grimace, and watches as Louis smiles back and goes to join Niall and Zayn by the tree.

They’re sat in the Hufflepuff common room, what with it being the cosiest and the nearest to the kitchens. Making it the best place for their merry gift exchanging and for the party they’ll be having tomorrow night. There’s about a dozen of them decked in various horrible-yet-festive jumpers, drinking hot chocolate, as the Wizarding Wireless Networks croons Christmas songs.

It’s quite beautiful really. The little family they’ve made from themselves here. Like, Harry knows why there are separate houses, and he thinks it add a little something wonderful to the whole experience of Hogwarts. But sometimes it just doesn’t feel very social. Keeping to your house and only your house. And Harry’s just so glad that he’s found himself in such a diverse group of friends. All of the four houses, purebloods, muggleborns, all sorts of backgrounds. And Louis is the unofficial leader of them all.

Which is why he’s in charge of distributing the Winter Warlock presents.

He hands out the gifts one by one, watching intently as each person unwraps them and adding his own special brand of commentary: _If this muggle book is from anyone but Liam, you should burn it. And if it is from Liam, you should throw it in his face._

And so it goes on.

Liam did get Aiden that muggle fairy tale book. And Perrie got Zayn this magical sketchbook that draws with you. But other than that, Niall was right. Just sweets and chocolate, both wizarding and muggle alike, and enough practical jokes to start their very own joke shop. Nick gets him the full set of W.W.W. magical quills and the biggest box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans he’s ever seen in his life. It’s all rather lovely.

Until Louis reaches for the last present under the tree, his own, and the panic comes back full force.

“Let me see,” he says as he paces around the circle of people, glancing into the red and green striped box that Harry wrapped himself. It even has a bow on it. “Chocolates, a Weasely’s Wizard Wheezes Wonderbox and a card full of banana puns.” That bit had been Harry’s idea. “I wonder who my Winter Warlock-”

“Or witch,” Eleanor, a slight and pretty Ravenclaw girl, adds for what feels like the thousandth time that night.

Louis nods solemnly, smiling. “Oh, yes, you’re right, El, my apologies. But in this instance I’m gonna stick with Warlock, and go for...” he pauses for a ridiculous amount of time, probably imagining drum rolls in his head. It’s pretty pointless anyway. Everyone knows who it is. “Hazza!” Louis finally finishes, with a flourish, plonking himself down onto Harry’s lap.

Harry blushes. Both at the intimate proximity and the fact that everyone else is staring at them. “Um, yeah,” he stutters, “I hope it’s alright?”

Louis nods enthusiastically. “More than alright, Haz my dear, it’s more than I could have ever hoped for,” he says with an overly dramatic sigh. Harry feels like he’s being made fun of.

“No need to take the mick, Lou.” He mutters, somewhat dejected.

Louis’ manic grin turns into something smaller and sweeter. “I promise I’m not, Harry, I love it,” he whispers, and Harry’s blushing all over again. “Aw, babes, no need to feel bashful, we’re all friends here.” Suddenly Louis jumps to his feet, pulling Harry with him. He’s rather like a puppy, Harry thinks. All over the place and adorable. “Wanna go put a portable swamp in the Gryffindor tower?”

There’s no way he could ever say no to Louis.

 

☾

 

When Harry wakes up the next morning, the first thing he sees is a blur of gold. He blinks a few times, forcing his eyes to focus, and notices that the gold is in fact someone’s skin. Someone soft and warm who is in fact lying right on top of him. Which...isn’t what he expected, but is certainly a nice way to wake up. The curtains of his four-poster and the body-heat of the person lying practically on top of him creating this brilliant cocoon of warmth, on what else would undoubtedly be a chilly Christmas morning.

The person shifts, lifting their head from where it was buried in Harry’s neck, and once Harry sees sleepy, but bright, eyes of blue, he knows it must be Louis, and something warm and lovely explodes in his chest. Definitely a nice way to wake up.

Louis smiles at him, big and bold. “Good morning, merry Christmas, I love you.” He says in quick succession. So quickly that Harry barely catches the last part. And once he realises what Louis said, he freezes. It’s not as if they’ve never said _I love you_ before. They’ve been best mates for years. But never so blunt and sudden. Never so heart-wrenchingly sincere.

Harry blinks. Louis keeps smiling. “Um. Morning Lou, merry Christmas.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows adorably, scrambling up so that he’s straddling Harry’s waist. Which may make it easier for him to breathe, but it definitely makes some things… _harder._ “Aren’t you gonna say you love me too?” Louis questions, voice more innocent than Harry’s every heard it. “You do love me, right, Harry Styles? Please say that you do, my Christmas will be ruined if you say you don’t.” And Louis pouts. Bottom lip pushed out, shiny and trembling slightly. Harry’s kinda scared. And kinda turned on.

“Of course I love you, too,” Harry assured him. Because of course he does. Has he seriously made Louis question that?

“Good,” Louis says, curling up under Harry’s arm and laying his head over Harry’s heartbeat.

It’s quiet for a while. He can tell that Niall must already be up and opening his presents by the distinct lack of snoring in the air. They’re quite alone. He doesn’t really know what to say. One question does come to mind, though. “How long have you been here, Lou?”

Louis hums, fingers drawing shapes into Harry’s collarbones. “I left the Slytherin common room as soon as the sun rose, Harry Styles. I wanted to be with you as soon as possible.”

Harry blushes. He’s never heard Louis say anything like that before. It’s a little concerning. “So,” he says, clearing his throat, “Any good presents?”

Louis nods enthusiastically into his chest. “Oh yes, Harry Styles, lots of good presents. My mum sent me new keeper’s gloves and Lottie sent me this beautiful quill, and Stan, you know Stan? He sent this wizard chess board where you can bewitch the pieces to look like anyone you want.”

Harry hums. “That’s really cool, Lou.”

“You can have it if you want, Harry Styles,” Louis says, bolting upright to stare Harry directly in the eyes, gaze unwavering, “You can have any of my presents. I may love them but I love you more, Harry Styles, and anything you want I’ll try my hardest to get for you.” His frantic demeanour calms, his face softening as he looks at Harry like he’s made of solid gold. “Oh, but you gave me the best gift of all,” he sighs, face flushing, “You gave me _chocolate_. Thank you for the chocolates, Harry Styles. They were so lovely; you’re so lovely.”

If Harry was confused and concerned before, there are no words to describe how he feels now. “Um. You’re welcome, Lou. But, erm. They weren’t anything special. Just, y’know, chocolate?”

Louis looks bewildered. “Not special? But Harry Styles, _you_ gave them to me. Which means it’s the nicest present I’ve ever received and I cannot thank you enough,” he assures, fingertips dancing over Harry’s bare sides, making goose bumps appear in their wake. It’s so tender. So lovely. Maybe Harry’s still sleeping. “Oh, but I haven’t even asked you, Harry Styles, did you like _your_ presents?”

“I haven’t opened them yet, but,” Harry sits up, eyeing Louis suspiciously, “why do you keep calling me that?”

Louis frowns. “Well, it is your name, isn’t it? But I’ll call you whatever you want. I can call you ‘Love’ because I love you so much!” he cheers, beaming from ear to ear, “Is that alright, love?”

No. It’s not alright. Something is very much not alright. “Louis, are you feeling ok?”

He smiles. Something big and uncontrollable and slightly hysteric. “Of course I am. It’s Christmas and it’s snowing, did I tell you that it’s snowing? And all the lights are _so_ pretty and you’re pretty too, Harry Styles," Louis says, so tenderly that Harry's heart aches. "You’re pretty and you’re my best friend in the whole world and you’re here and you gave me chocolate.”

Harry nods slowly, trying not to freak out. It's not really working. “Louis, you’re scaring me.”

And if Harry was scared before, what Louis does next is absolutely terrifying. He practically jumps on Harry, clinging to him desperately as he starts bawling, tears smearing Harry’s shoulder. "Oh, no. Oh dear, oh no. I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t mean to, I promise. Harry- Love, I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down," Harry says in a tone he hopes is less panicked and more soothing, hands running cautiously over Louis' back. The boy isn’t wearing a shirt. The skin on skin contact is intoxicating. "Of course I forgive you. Louis please stop crying, or you’re gonna make me cry too.”

Louis shakes his head from where it's pressed against Harry's neck, sniffling softly. “No, don’t cry, Harry Styles. You’re so beautiful when you cry, but I don’t want you to be sad.”

“I’m not, I promise,” he assures the boy who’s a bit of a sobbing mess on his chest, “I don’t want you to be sad either, Lou.”

Louis bolts upright, settling himself on Harry’s hips again. And, god, if Louis keeps moving around so much Harry’s gonna get whiplash. He already feels a little dizzy. Louis touches his cold fingertips to Harry’s jaw, feeling his way. “I’m not sad, Harry Styles, not with you around,” he insists, “I love you too much to ever be sad. Unless we ever break up, then I’ll be sad. But we won’t break up. Because I love you, and you said you love me, so we’re gonna get married someday and have lots of babies, and I hope they have your curly hair, because it’s so wonderful-”

“Right. Ok.” He absolutely can’t take any more of this talk. Talk of their lives together and their children. And yeah he may have several journals filled with similar things, but it’s one thing for him to think it, and another for Louis to be saying it to him. He takes a shuddery breath. “Ok. Right.”

Louis giggles. “You already said that.” Harry feels a sudden surge of warmth from somewhere in his ribcage.

“So I did.” And ok, Harry’s brain has finally caught up to the situation and he has a few theories as to what might be going on. And if it is what he thinks it is, then this is not good at all. And if it _is_ what he thinks it is, then there’s an Irish bastard he needs a word with. “Um, Louis, dear?” _That’s right Harry, just play along._ “Would you mind if I popped off for a minute? I just need to find Nialler to ask him about…” _Say something. Say anything._ “Potions homework.”

Louis smiles, rolling off Harry and flopping down on the rumpled sheets. “Ok.”

Harry opens the curtains and slides out of bed, slowly. Like Louis’ a wild animal that he doesn’t want to startle. And to be honest, right now, that’s not too far from the truth. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

“Oh I won’t, Harry Styles. This is your bed and it smells like you so I don’t want to leave it ever again.” Louis wriggles around until he’s all tucked in under Harry’s duvet. Snuggling into his pillow.

It is, without a doubt, the cutest and most heart-warming image Harry’s ever prayed witness to. He wants to ignore Niall’s very existence – although he does that a lot anyway – and crawl back into bed, back to _Louis._ He wants to forget about his little moral dilemma and selfishly enjoy Louis while he’s like this. Whatever _this_ is.

“Ok,” he says, physically shaking himself to stop his foolish mind, “Bye.”

He’s halfway out the room, not even bothering to put anything more on over the boxers he slept in, when Louis shouts, “Merry Christmas, I love you!”

Harry will not turn around. If he does he won’t have the strength to turn away again. “Yeah. You too,” he mutters, and then he practically runs out of the dormitory and pelts down the stairs trying to calm his blushing cheeks at least a little bit.

When he gets to the common room, only a little bit out of breath, he finds not only all the remaining Hufflepuffs but people from a couple other houses as well, all sat around their over decorated Christmas tree, opening presents. And there, in the centre of the festive mess wearing a horrible hand knitted jumper, is Niall, the Irish bastard himself.

“Niall,” he says, as calmly as he can considering the circumstances. Several people turn to look at him, but no one even bats an eyelid at his half nakedness.

“Harry!” Niall cheers, “Merry Christmas! Hey, pull a cracker with me, mate.” He shoves a Christmas cracker in Harry’s face and all his restraint flies out the window.

Harry slaps Niall’s hand out of the way. “What the fuck did you do?”

Niall blinks, owlishly. “I didn’t eat all of it myself, I swear, Liam-”

Harry grabs him and yanks him to his feet before he can continue, pulling him to a more secluded corner. “I don’t know nor care what you’re talking about. Tell me what you did to Louis.”

Niall at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “What makes you think I did anything to him?”

“Because he was fine yesterday and now he’s all lovey dovey and clingy and a bit insane and I know it’s your fault.” He might sound a bit like a petulant child right now, but desperate times call for desperate measures and all that.

Niall, smirks. “Why’s that a bad thing? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes, but not against his will.” Which is essentially what it comes down to. Louis isn’t in control of himself and Harry never wanted to put him in this sort of position because- “ _Because,_ based on all the symptoms, he seems to be under a love potion, and Niall, I swear, if you did this to him, I will never forgive you.”

There’s a couple of seconds silence between them before Niall’s face breaks into a massive grin, looking as happy as Larry. “So did it work then? ‘Cause I’ll tell ya, I was sceptical. Especially at that price-”

And Harry really can’t believe this. “You gave him a love potion?”

“Technically, _you_ gave him a love potion.”

“Niall,” he says, trying to sounds as threatening as possible, “Exactly what type of chocolates did you get?”

“Caramel, I think-”

He thwacks Niall in the chest, completely fed up with his tomfoolery. “This is serious.”

Niall looks affronted at his actions. Which- _No_. He doesn't get to be _bothered_ by this. Harry can be, _Louis_ bloody well can be, but not him. Niall seems to understand how little the situation amuses him, though, finally actually answering his question. “Calm down, its part of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes new collection. All sort of girly stuff like love potions. So before you say anything, no, it’s not illegal.”

Harry rolls his eyes. Of course that’s all Niall would have worried about. “Well that’s a shame. I was hoping they’d take you far away from us so that your stupidity wouldn’t affect us ever again.”

That does get a chuckle out of Niall, which means Harry isn’t offending him too much. Although maybe he isn’t offending him enough. “Hey, alright, it should wear off in about twenty four hours, and that’s that. Sorted.”

Harry sighs, all his anger melting into dejection. He walks over to the nearest sofa, collapsing into it. “Yeah, except for the fact that Louis will never forgive me, and not only will I never get to _be_ with him properly, he won’t even be my friend again.” It’s the first time he’s really let himself think about the repercussions of all this. They’re not exactly uplifting. “Thanks Niall. Merry Christmas.”

Niall dumps himself next to Harry, patting his arm in what’s probably comforting. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I mean I’ve never really believed that love potions can work that well, especially joke shop ones-”

“Harry!” They both turn to see Louis stood in the wooden doorway, wearing what Harry recognises as his Christmas jumper from last night. He completely swamps him. Harry is completely screwed. He runs over to them and sits himself in Harry’s lap, and burying his head in Harry’s neck. It seems to be a favourite spot of his. “You were gone for so long, I got worried. Never leave me like that again, promise?”

Harry sighs, wrapping his arms around the boy. Twenty four hours. He can hold off worrying about Louis’ reaction until then. “Yeah, Lou, I promise.”

“Never mind, I see what you mean.” Niall is looking between the two of them, blatantly delighted by the turn of events. _He better be enjoying this,_ Harry thinks bitterly, _it’s his bloody fault._

Louis seems to have only just notices that Niall was even there, smiling and stretching out so that his legs are draped over Niall’s lap. Harry is irrationally jealous. “Niall! Hi! Did I tell you that me and Harry are in love?”

It’s gonna be a long day.

 

☾

 

The whole of Christmas day is both completely bizarre and completely wonderful.

Louis is clingy and bubbly and compliments him at every turn, whispering sweet nothings into the soft curls behind Harry’s ear. He brings him hot chocolate when he mentions how much he misses the special Christmas kind his mum makes and he fetches blankets when goose bumps appear on his skin. Louis crawling under with him and snuggling close _for extra warmth._ And part of him wants to analyse this. To commit to memory the way Louis’ skin feels and the shapes he draws into Harry’s palms. He wants to always remember the sweet, soft tone of Louis’ voice when he whispers secrets to him. He wants to lock this memory away somewhere safe so that when this is all over, he can find it again.

But he doesn’t get much time to think about anything, really, because Louis is always demanding his undivided attention. Which, you know, isn’t that different from usual. Except, instead of pranks and banter, it’s cuddles and _I love you_ ’s and everything Harry wants for real. It’s like a teaser trailer for a life Harry wants more than anything but can never really have. It kinda completely sucks, but he tries not to think about what’ll happen once the potion wears off. He better get in all the cuddles he can before that happens. Especially if Louis’ gonna hate him. Which, Harry’s pretty sure, he will.

It’s all just very strange. Almost like a dream. Definitely like some of the dreams he has had. But the strangest part of all, is that no one even bats an eyelid at them. Their friends take one look at Harry sat on the mustard yellow sofa with Louis curled up in his lap and carry on as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. And doesn’t _that_ just add a painful stab to the mess of emotions that are swimming around his head right now, drowning him.

And the thing is, he just feels guilty, above all things. Because Louis is doing all of this against his will and Harry never wanted to be the person doing that to him. He never wanted to do that to anyone until Niall fucked everything up. It kinda puts a damper on his Christmas merriment. Which, apparently, isn’t allowed until the “clock strikes boxing day,” as Niall put it. So he can’t get out of attending their little Christmas party. Which would be hard to do anyway, what with it being in the Hufflepuff common room, and all. Add to that the way that Louis literally begs him to go, and, well. He can’t say no.

There’s only a couple dozen of people there but it feels like there are hundreds. Pulsing bodies and singing voices and Christmas songs of both the wizarding and muggle variety playing as loud as possible. It’s a mess of Firewhiskey and Christmas cheer and sometimes Harry can’t even hear himself think, but he can’t manage to lose Louis. It’s not as if he’s actively avoiding him, though. The boy hasn’t left Harry’s side since he woke up on top of him that morning, so it’d be pretty hard to avoid him. It’s just that Louis is very drunk and continues to pull Harry under the mistletoe whenever they pass near some.

And like- it’s so wrong. It’s wrong how much he wants to kiss Louis, it’s horrible how much Louis _doesn’t_ want him back. Well, except for when he’s had a love potion and far too many drinks. And it’s unfair that they find themselves in this situation, Louis looking up at him like he actually likes him. And it’d be so easy to give in. To give into Louis’ soft fingertips caressing his face. To give into the holiday music and the cheer and the alcohol. To give into the tradition of Christmas and mistletoe and take what he wants so much it aches. To believe that something, _anything_ , of this crazy situation is real. But it’s not. He doesn’t want Louis to look back at tonight and hate him. He doesn’t want his first and only kiss with Louis to be when he’s so out of control of himself. He just can’t do it. So he uses his grip on Louis’ waist to pull them back into the throng of dancing bodies, trying desperately not to notice the blatant disappointment on Louis’ face. And each time he has to pull himself away from Louis, it hurts a little bit more. He doesn’t think his heart can take much more of this. Much more of sweet, cuddly Louis. He’s gonna need another drink. Or twelve.

 

☾

 

When Harry wakes up he’s curled up in Louis’ arms. It’s not unlike yesterday morning, but there’s something more comfortable and familiar and calm about how they are now. Snuggled together fully. Hungover and sleepy and kind of perfect. Like Harry’s body can tell that everything is right with the world once more. Could tell something was up with Louis yesterday before his foggy mind could work it out.  Which. Yeah. Louis had taken a love potion. A love potion which Niall had bought but Harry had physically given to Louis and. Well. Harry’s suddenly not feeling as calm.

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” a groggy voice says from above him. And Harry tenses up. Surely Louis remembers. Even if he was too drunk to remember the party there’s still a whole day of, well. _Love._

Harry exhales shakily, slowly pulling himself out of Louis’ arms. “Yeah, you kind of passed out on me at the party last night, so I just brought you up here. I hope that’s alright.”

Louis hums, snuggling into his pillow. _Harry’s_ pillow. “’Course it is, Haz. Though I s’pose that explains why my head feels like a bludger’s hit it.”

This is normally the part where Harry would laugh and Louis would tell him off for being too loud in his delicate state, but Harry is too terrified to do anything other than chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah, maybe.”

If Louis notices just how stiff Harry is, lying beside him, then he doesn’t say anything. In fact, he must not notice, as he shits himself until his head is resting on Harry’s shoulder. “Hmm,” he sighs, dreamily, “cosy.”

And Harry doesn’t really know what to do. His heart’s beating about a mile a minute and Louis _must_ be able to tell, but the boy is as calm as ever, which makes Harry wonder. Was Niall wrong? Does it last longer than he thought? Is Louis still under a spell and – if he is – how long until it wears off? This is far too much stress for Boxing Day.

Louis shifts slightly, turning his head to rest his chin on Harry’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from his frazzled thoughts and onto Louis’ pensive expression. “I had the strangest dream, last night, Haz.”

Harry gulps. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t really remember much, it’s just a blur of chocolate and, like, shades of pink and hearts and stuff and you and cuddles.” Which. _Yeah._

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Was nice.” And this is it, _it must be it_. Harry braces himself, barely breathing. Louis sits up, slowly, brows furrowed. “Harry?” he asks, calmly.

“Yeah?” Harry answers, not as calmly.

“Did I spend the whole of Christmas under the influence of a love potion?”

And there it is.

Harry nods, sadly. “Kind of.”

“And was I embarrassingly all over you all day?”

“A little bit.”

“I see.”

Louis’ face is completely blank, which is even worse that angry or upset. At least then he’d know what was going on inside the boy’s head. Harry’s kinda terrified.

“Well,” Louis continues, in what he probably hopes comes across as nonchalant, but Harry knows better, “I should really be going Haz.”

Louis slides out of Harry’s bed and rushes to pick up his shoes. He may be quick, but Harry is quicker, fingers wrapping around Louis’ wrist in a desperate attempt to stop him from leaving. He really hopes Niall’s left the dormitory already. He doesn’t really want an audience for this. Although he makes a note to tell Niall that Harry _was_ right. At least there’s that little silver lining in this whole mess.

Louis tries to pull his wrist from Harry’s grip, but he’s not budging. “No, Lou, please, I’m so sorry, I can explain, please-”

Louis stops. “ _You’re_ sorry? Why are _you_ sorry?”

Harry blinks, confused. “Well I did kind of give you a love potion against your will.” _Except._ “No. I didn’t. Niall did, I didn’t mean to, please don’t hate me.” At this point he is not above begging.

Louis smiles wistfully at him. “I could never hate you, Harry, I’m just feeling a little... Who am I kidding, _a lot_ , embarrassed.”

And no. Louis can’t blame himself for this. He just can’t. “There’s no need,” Harry insists, still clinging tightly to Louis wrist, “really, you couldn’t control it, I understand. Everyone does.”

“Not about that, Haz,” Louis says, so quietly he could barely make out the words.

“But. Then what-?”

Louis sighs, finally surrendering and moving to sit himself on the foot of Harry’s bed. Harry lets his arm drop. “I’m not embarrassed because I spent the whole day clinging to you, I’m embarrassed because I enjoyed it so much.”

What. “What?”

Louis hides his face in his hands. Harry wants to tell him not to, but he doesn’t. “Look, from what I remember I was definitely a little bit over the top and weird but other than that, it was just really lovely, ok?”

 _What._ “What?”

“It’d be nice if you could say something other than ‘what’ right now, Harry,” he deadpans.

But Harry doesn't know what else to say. ‘ _What’_ seems to sum up his thought process pretty well. “I just. I don’t understand. You _liked_ being controlled by a love potion?”

Louis’ blushing. Louis is actually _blushing_. He’s not drunk or under a love potion or flirting with a girl he likes. He’s with Harry, talking to Harry, talking _about Harry_ , and he’s blushing. “I liked being confident enough to be with you how I want to.”

And. Oh. _Oh._

“ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

No. Don’t be sorry. That’s what Harry wants. “Don’t be,” he tells him, trying not to seem to over eager.

“Well I’ve made it weird now.”

His heart is beating about a mile a minute, and he feels like he might faint, but he needs Louis to understand. “No you haven’t.”

“I have,” Louis insists, looking more lost than Harry’s ever seen him,  “I mean, you _know_ now, and I don’t even know why I told you but I did and I’ve ruined everything.”

Harry rushes to him, practically throws himself at him, and falls to his knees by Louis’ feet. There’s so much he wants to say, wants to do, but he has to do this right. One step at a time. So he brings his hands to Louis’ where they rest in his lap, desperate to get and keep his attention. “Louis, Louis please, you really haven’t. In fact, you may have made my entire Christmas.”

Louis looks confused. “You don’t need to lie to make me feel better, Harry.”

“Louis, please.” He bring Louis’ hands to his lips, pressing kisses all along his knuckles, trying to make him understand. _This is it._  “I want that too. So much.”

Louis blinks at him, with pretty eyelashes, pink mouth slightly agape. He looks like shock personified. “Really?”

_This must be it._

Harry nods so quickly his neck hurts, but he doesn't regret it. He needs Louis to _see._ “Yeah. How could I not? Have you met yourself? You’re perfect.”

“But last night,” he seems to struggle with believing Harry’s words. Seems to struggle with figuring out his own, “When we were under the mistletoe you didn’t- you didn’t kiss me.”

Harry kisses the boy’s knuckles again. “I didn’t want to do that to you when you weren’t yourself, Lou. I didn’t know you wanted that. You deserve the world, Louis.” And isn’t that what it comes down to. “Not drunken kisses under the mistletoe.”

Louis finally lets himself smile. Big, unadulterated and beautiful. “Aw, Haz. You old sap,” his tone may be joking, but the expression on his face is anything but. He looks like hope and excitement and _Christmas_. “D’you promise you’re not just teasing me? Or mocking or-”

“No, Lou, never. Why can’t you believe that I like you?”

“Because you’re you.” He says it so simply, so obviously, Harry’s heart aches just a little bit.

Harry drops his head to Louis’ knees, feeling dizzy from what he’s- well, from all that he’s _feeling._ “And you’re you.”

Louis’ fingers weave themselves into Harry’s hair, messing it up and then smoothing it out. “Why are you still all the way down there?” And that’s all the incentive Harry needs to raise himself up until his eye to eye with Louis, as he finally, _finally,_ kiss him.

And if Harry didn’t believe in magic, this feeling would be all the convincing he’d need. Because although this is the first time they’ve kissed, it feels like it’s something they’ve always done. Like all the kisses Harry’s been dreaming of had actually happened. All the morning smooches even with morning breath, and all the night-time make-outs where they could barely keep themselves awake. Each one training him for the real thing. And he wonders if Louis’ had the same dreams. If he’s dreamed of biting Harry’s lip, like he is now. If he thinks about playing with Harry’s hair, like he is now. That very thought alone is enough to send Harry’s nerve endings into overdrive. Focussing in on all the points the two of them are touching. And why aren't they touching more? Why haven’t they done this before?

“We’re both such idiots,” he whispers into Louis’ skin, a place to keep his secrets.

Louis makes a noise of agreement, smacking a series of short and loud kisses onto Harry’s mouth. “I don’t really mind. I just wish we’d done this sooner.”

He cups Louis jaw, tilting his head to a better angle, dragging his tongue against the seam of Louis’ lips. “Mmm, me too.”

Louis finally gathers the strength to pull away, manoeuvring himself and Harry back into bed. He kisses Harry’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Haz.”

Harry kisses the nearest piece of skin, which turns out to be Louis’ chin, humming happily. “Merry Christmas, Lou.”

They settle down into the sheets, Louis lying half on top of him to continue their very first snogging session. Harry reluctantly pulls away, “Oh, there’s just one more thing.” Louis hums in acknowledgment, kissing Harry deeply once more. He has a hard time getting words out after that. “Don’t let Niall know it’s all thanks to his stupid plan. He’ll never let us live it down.”

Louis chuckles against Harry’s mouth, pressing another kiss there for good measure. “Deal. But only if you never stop kissing me.”

Harry smiles. Kissing him again and again and again. “Deal.”

It’s probably the best deal Harry’s ever made.

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And just in case it wasn't clear. Winter Warlock is the wizarding version of Secret Santa that I made up don't judge me...
> 
>  
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> [tumblr](http://b0yfriendsinl0ve.tumblr.com/)


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